


Hidden Identities

by Dracoduceus



Series: Target Practice Anniversary Event [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Author can't dress themselves what makes you think they can dress others?, Bad Humor, Hanzo does taiko, Hanzo is a part-time student, Jesse is a polyglot, M/M, Satya and Hanzo are sassy friends, barista jesse, fanfiction writer Hanzo, giving people nicknames because you don't know their actual name, my love of naked cats appears again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 16:31:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15689178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracoduceus/pseuds/Dracoduceus
Summary: Online, Hanzo is Dragon_Drums, a fanfiction writer who in his mind does "okay" work. In person he is quiet and reserved, a shy man that occasionally hits big drums.In person, he finds himself very much into the cute barista at the local coffee shop, who he calls Tombstone. His friends (in real life and online) urge him to ask him out.





	Hidden Identities

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 4 of the Target Practice Anniversary event. Prompt: Hidden identities.

  _[DragonDrums]: finished_

Hanzo grinned when he saw the rolling ellipses as his friend typed.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: wat mastrbating?_

Alone in his apartment, Hanzo laughed out loud, startling the cat on the windowsill into falling off. There was a flurry of startled yowls and hisses when he landed on his brother and the two bolted out of the room.

_[DragonDrums]: lol_  
_[DragonDrums]: scared the cats_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: damn_ __  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: im sure ur not that ugly_  
[DeadLockedNLoaded]:  <3

Hanzo laughed again, covering his mouth in case he woke his neighbors.

_[DragonDrums]: do you want to read it or not?_

The reply was immediate.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: yu know i do_

Hanzo opened another tab and fiddled around with the site. Done, he copied the link and sent it in the chat to Locked who sent back who sent back a rainbow heart.

Stretching, he stood up and went looking for his errant cats. He found one of them at the top of the cat tree, his front paws folded primly in front of him while his back legs were splayed and extended. Seeing Hanzo, he opened his mouth as if meowing but no sound came out.

Hanzo scratched the soft skin between his ears, playing with the wrinkles that were the inspiration for Hanzo calling him Jii-san. His scraggly whiskers, broken and uneven, gave him the look of a grizzled old grandpa; the wrinkles of skin on his forehead made him look perpetually concerned. “Jii-san,” he cooed.

As if summoned by magic, Staples rubbed against Hanzo’s ankles as he begged for attention as well. Inspired, Hanzo scooped Staples up and settled him on the cat tree next to Jii-san who grunted, not unlike a grumpy old man. Chattering, Staples turned as Hanzo pulled his phone out. Jii-san rolled on his back and grabbed at Staples with all four paws.

He snapped a few pictures of the two of them rolling around before the fighting got too intense and Staples pushed Jii-san off of his perch. Leaving them to their war, Hanzo checked over the pictures and went back to his computer and found that he had a few unread messages.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: you_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: bastard_ __  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: im dead_  
[DeadLockedNLoaded]: you killed me

Hanzo snorted and typed back, _was it unsatisfactory then?_

Locked started and stopped typing a few times, evidenced by the rolling ellipses. They disappeared for a while and Hanzo sighed, unable to help the seed of doubt wiggling deep into his chest. Perhaps it was, then. He bit his lip. He supposed there were a lot of things he could have changed. Maybe he could have waited to edit it a bit more.

There were a few hits when he checked the website he had posted it to. No comments. A handful of likes.

Not that he had expected any better. It had barely been five minutes since he posted and his writing was mediocre at best. Once the page refreshed after a few hours his story would be buried beneath more popular authors. The handful of likes and hits were probably all he’d get for the mess he posted.

Looking down at his phone, he fiddled with the pictures of the cats and debated between a few filters on Instagram. He jumped when his computer chimed.

_[DragonDrums]: was it unsatisfactory then?_ _  
_ _[DeadLockedNLoaded]: no_

Hanzo’s heart sank.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: it’s fucking amazing_  
_[DragonDrums]: really?_ __  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: I love it_  
[DeadLockedNLoaded]: goddamn

Staples ran into his chair, taking a flying leap and latching on to the back with his hind claws. He missed the top of his chair with his front paws and dug his claws – in desperate need of clipping – into Hanzo’s shoulders.

Hanzo’s pained and startled screams scared Staples and Jii-san, who had been chasing him, into fleeing the room. Running into the bathroom, he yanked his shirt over his head and inspected the red marks his cats left in his skin. They weren’t _so_ bad but he still hissed when he cleaned out the wounds and eyed the two idiots as they peered nervously around the corner.

When he went back to his computer he found a few unread messages from Locked and that the dot next to their icon was grey – offline, then.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: well_   
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: that was great to read before bed_ _  
_ _[DeadLockedNLoaded]: I’ll have to read it again in the morning_

Checking the time, Hanzo swore when he realized that it was past midnight.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: I gotta get to bed_   
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: early shift tomorrow. Ugh._ _  
_ _[DeadLockedNLoaded]: goodnight!_

Sighing, Hanzo typed back, _goodnight_ , and turned to Jii-san and Staples. He was just in time to watch the tips of their tails – gray for Jii-san, white for Staples – disappear into the bathroom. The throbbing pain front the scratches on his shoulders reminded him that this was an opportune time with both cats currently trapped in the bathroom.

He slipped in and closed the door before they could escape.

When he went to bed he had a few more scratches and both cats glared at him from their perches on the windowsill but exhaustion thrummed in his veins and eyes so he flipped them off and flopped into bed. He nearly forgot to turn off his computer and crawled into bed.

* * *

“Hey,” the friendly barista at the coffee shop said. He wore his nametag but it was one of the ones with the panels for the baristas to write their own names and Hanzo had never been able to easily read the chicken scratch on the small pin. “You look like you had a rough night. What can I getcha today?”

Hanzo grunted as he fished around in his pockets for his wallet. “Iced latte, please,” Hanzo said. “The largest you have.

The barista laughed. “Shall I just find a pitcher for you?”

“ _Please_ ,” Hanzo said with feeling, making the barista laugh. Hanzo watched the codes scroll over the marquee at the top of the register.

“Soy or almond milk today?” the barista asked, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. Hanzo liked this particular barista. While all of them were friendly and cheerful without appearing to have that oily veneer of false cheer that some retail workers had, the friendly barista (who Hanzo secretly called Tombstone after the movie and the barista’s penchant for dropping over-the-top Southernisms and quotes from old Western movies into their interactions) always made it seem like you were the only one that mattered in the world. At first it had flustered Hanzo but then he realized that Tombstone was honestly just…well, just _that friendly_.

“We got coconut milk today, too,” Tombstone added, oblivious to Hanzo’s internal musings. “And pumpkin spice flavoring should be coming in next week or so. I know you like that one.”

Ducking his head, Hanzo blushed. “Surprise me,” he said.

“Sure thing,” Tombstone said with a laugh and a wink. “I’ll bring it over when it’s ready.”

Hanzo smiled as he paid. “Thank you.” he hoped he wasn’t blushing when their fingers brushed as Tombstone gave him his change.

When he got his paper cup, Tombstone (or so he assumed and secretly hoped) had drawn a sunflower with an exaggerated note reading _For You_ . Turning the cup, Hanzo found the barista notes: _hzl / ice latte / cm_. He took a picture and sent it to Satya with no additional comment. She’d know the joke he was making.

She replied almost immediately: _Get your mind out of the gutter. That’s gross_.

“Was it everything you hoped for?” Tombstone asked and Hanzo looked up. So close, he could make out either a G or a J on his nametag.

Hanzo smiled. “You put something in it,” he accused, pointing to the brown flecks decorating the whipped cream on his iced latte. “Cinnamon?”

He gleefully watched the flush on Tombstone’s face rise. “Just a bit of pumpkin spice seasoning,” he said a little sheepishly. “The spice came in earlier than the syrup. Is it too much?”

“No,” Hanzo decided after a long sip. “I think I like it.”

Tombstone ducked his head. “Mighty fine,” he said. A customer slapped the bell on the counter and he glanced back. “Sorry,” he said. “Gotta take that.” He lingered for another second, wavering as if he wanted to say more, but decided against it and walked briskly back to the counter.

Opening his phone, he texted Satya. _Barista came over to talk to me about it._

Satya responded: _Did he ask you how you liked his “cm”?_

Sipping his drink, Hanzo choked. _I’m ignoring you now_. He opened his chats and found Locked’s icon, a stylized silhouette of a cowboy riding a bucking bronco.

_[DragonDrums]: im so gay_

Seeing the time stamp at the top of his phone he swore, shoved it in his pocket and ran out the door. “Bye!” he yelled to Tombstone over his shoulder though he couldn’t see if the barista noticed.

* * *

That night Locked wheedled the whole story from him, reminding Hanzo that _you can’t just drop a line like that and not expect me to want to know all the details!_

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: it sounds like he’s into you ;)_ _  
_ _[DragonDrums]: he’s cute_

Hanzo bit his lip as Staples patted his leg for attention.

_[DragonDrums]: but I don’t know if he’s into me_

Rolling ellipses bounced on the bottom of the page while Hanzo opened one of his other word documents, scrolling down to the bottom. He was impressed with how much he had written – it was more than he had expected and aside from going through and cleaning it up, the main story looked to be almost complete.

Locked still hadn’t responded so Hanzo did.

_[DragonDrums]: anyway, I have a mer au I think I’m almost done with_

The ellipses stopped.

There was a pause.

Locked sent an emoji of wide eyes and Hanzo smiled.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: what do you mean almost done?_   
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: is it like Whiskey Sunset that was “almost done” for two months?_ _  
_ _[DeadLockedNLoaded]: ;)_

Hanzo rolled his eyes but he couldn’t help his smile or the blush that rose on his cheeks. He was just glad that Locked couldn’t see him.

Whiskey Sunset had been one of the first stories he had ever posted and true to Locked’s words had been “almost done” for a long time. But that was because Hanzo had gotten a really bad case of writer’s block after Genji had gone and fallen down the stairs.

He just didn’t have the time to think about anything but Genji being attached to an IV and worrying that he would do something stupid and get himself killed while Hanzo wasn’t there to mind him. Or driving him to all of his doctors’ appointments because driving alone while in that condition was Extremely Frowned Upon. Between caring for Genji and getting his own work done, Hanzo didn’t have the energy to do anything but shower and fall face-first in bed.

In reality, Locked had been too generous…Whiskey Sunset had been on hiatus for nearly _four_ months. Two were dedicated to taking care of Genji; after those first two months Genji’s boyfriend had come back from his trip so he could take over Genji’s care. (Hanzo had tried to tell himself that he wasn’t jealous. He couldn’t even lie to himself in the confines of his own mind.)

The next two months were spent struggling to, in Tombstone’s words, _git back on that horse_ . Most days he could only get a few words in; if he was lucky he’d get a sentence. That chapter had _crawled_.

Around then Locked had started reading and leaving comments. They started out long and complex.

_I heard so much about this story but I didn’t want to read it because it wasn’t finished yet. I didn’t know if my poor heart could take being left in the lurch! Given your tendency to leave people hanging I think I was right…at the same time not. I’m so glad I started reading and I can’t wait to get to the next chapter. Thank you for sharing!_

As they reached the end of the posted chapters, they grew shorter.

_Ooh that was interesting! Thank you for sharing!_

_Oh no!_

_Called it! I_ knew _it you bastard! Thank you for sharing!_

It made his heart make little flips in his chest every time he read a comment. On that site Locked was ‘Opuntina_Opera’ and their profile picture was a closeup of what might have been a dildo-corn. (In Hanzo’s defense the picture was small and refused to be enlarged but the straps wrapping around the white horse’s cheek and head as well as the rainbow maybe-silicone maybe-testicles were rather damning.) No doubt it was cropped to comply with the site’s term of service but for all Hanzo knew Locked could have done it to keep people wondering.

From what Hanzo had learned of them since, it seems like something they would do.

Hanzo came to look forward to those little correspondences. He didn’t typically respond to comments – not wanting to inflate his comment count, being in Genji’s words “the most awkward pickle in existence”, etc. – but Opuntina_Opera made it difficult to keep to that.

They would sometimes leave a longer comment. Sometimes it was anecdotes of things that the events of the chapter reminded him of, sometimes it was to tell Hanzo about how they were ugly sobbing on the bed and now couldn’t sleep, thanks jerk!

Every little note made Hanzo smile and he grew to look forward to them. Opuntina_Opera didn’t post a comment consistently at the same time every day, not that Hanzo had expected them to. But it was nice every day to be proven wrong, that they hadn’t stopped; it was so nice to come home to an email and inbox notification on the posting site to see that Opuntina_Opera and their maybe-dildo-corn profile picture had posted another comment.

As Locked drew to the end of the posted chapters, the comments grew melancholy.

_You bastard, you got me hooked on this. I don’t know what I will do when I reach the end. I’m almost afraid to keep reading but I know that you got me, hook, line, and sinker. Thank you for sharing._

_I know you have a life outside of this so I don’t want to seem like I’m pressuring you but I don’t think I can sleep until I know what happens. Thank you for sharing._

The last one rattled something in Hanzo. He knew that giving into demands like that might give others the impression that they were entitled to work rather than being a recipient of a gift of Hanzo’s heart poured into a word document. But Opuntina_Opera seemed nothing but encouraging, were earnest in their begging to learn what happens next.

Still high on the feeling of the most recent comment Hanzo opened his notes and his word document.

_I’m so excited to learn what happens. You can’t just leave me hanging like that! (I know you can and you have, dangit!) I guess I shall have to let my mind wander and think of all of the terrible things that could happen just in case their story takes a turn for the worse. Maybe I’ll be prepared for your next heartbreaking twist. Thank you for sharing._

Opuntina_Opera had been quiet for a few days, no more chapters to read, when Hanzo was able to post the next chapter of his story. In the notes section on the bottom, Hanzo wrote:

_Special thanks to a stubborn commenter. I didn’t respond but your comment were inspirational._

He considered explaining what happened. About Genji’s myasthenia acting up, about his week-long stay in the hospital, about how Hanzo was a tightly-wound ball of nerves. Ultimately Hanzo decided not to, partially because that information would then be terrifyingly public and partially because he didn’t want to scare them away so soon.

That would come later.

It always did.

Opuntina_Opera had commented within an hour.

_OMG!! I can’t believe!! I hope you’re well. I’m so excited to read it but I need to wait until after work! Something light to read before bed!_

Five hours later as Hanzo was getting ready to go to bed he found a comment notification. Opuntina_Opera had replied to their previous comment:

_I’m so happy, I’m so excited that you updated. Even if it was a sad update. I’m ugly-sobbing in my bed you bastard. I don’t think my heart can take it if you make it much sadder than this! But if you did I’d still read it because I’m so weak for your work._

Hanzo almost couldn’t read the rest of the comment for his excitement. He ended up saving the email notification and taking a screenshot for good measure just to keep it on the side. Then it occurred to him that it might seem a bit stalker-ish so he deleted it.

Like a flip had been switched, it felt like Hanzo could write again – like his inspiration had been a faucet that had been stuck shut but now was open. It sounded silly and too dramatic even for the depths of his own thoughts and yet…

He got back on a regular updating schedule.

Opuntina_Opera kept commenting on each chapter. It usually began with “ _I’m so excited that you updated!_ ”

(The paranoid part of Hanzo’s mind thought that they were conditioning him to update the story and was a little annoyed at how much it worked. On the other hand Hanzo thought that it wasn’t intentional on Opuntina_Opera’s part and tried his best to ignore the part that screamed about manipulation.)

Three weeks after he began posting regularly the story was finished. He had altered the storyline (without retconning what he had already posted) and gave them a much happier ending than what was originally planned.

At the same time he was reluctant to post that last chapter, reluctant to part with his one-sided correspondence with Opuntina_Opera. He had hesitated over the “Post” button for ten minutes before scolding himself for being silly. Then he marked the story “Complete”.

Opuntina_Opera had commented sometime overnight.

_I couldn’t sleep and then I saw that you updated. I ended up not getting any sleep because I NEEDED to read this chapter again and again. Even knowing what would happen I found that I couldn’t put it down until I forced myself to. I have the long shift today and I’ll be doing it on less than three hours of sleep but it’ll be so worth it!_

_A part of me is sad that it’s all over. Now what will I do with myself?_

_Thank you so much for this wild ride. I’m goin to need to read it over again and then maybe again for good measure. I feel like I’m missing a lot, like it’s more nuanced than I give it credit for (or maybe im just overthinkgk thins.)_

_Oen last thing…can I translate this?_

Hanzo’s kneejerk reaction had been to respond immediately but what do you say? _Thank you, yes you can translate it, you were the inspiration for the ending?_

Please, even _he_ knew that was weird and awkward.

He resolved not to respond at first and waited until the end of the day. Satya had commented on his distraction at work and though she didn’t know the details of his hobby she knew enough that he felt only a little silly asking her for advice.

“Be yourself, I don’t know, I’m not good at this stuff either” wasn’t the most helpful advice but the look of _you’re an idiot and I’m right_ was enough of a kick in the butt to do something. (And he knew better to point out that she _should_ be good at this because she majored in communications and linguistics and spoke something like five languages fluently and three more with working proficiency.) It was the least he could do for someone that had left such inspiring comments.

So Hanzo just let himself type like he did with the chapters – he would edit it later.

_Thank you. I really enjoyed reading your comments. They were really inspiring at the end. I had stepped away for so long that I couldn’t remember where my notes were or how the original ending went just that I had them somewhere._

_As for translating, I don’t mind as long as you send me a copy so I can link it here._

Opuntina_Opera didn’t respond and Hanzo tried not to let it get to him.

In the meantime he found a chat site that had a group for the fandom that Hanzo (usually) wrote for, which he joined. No one commented on his presence and he found he kind of liked it, not that he thought his writing was particularly groundbreaking.

The channel jumped around from topic to topic and one day after Hanzo got home from work he found that there was a discussion on, of all things, Whiskey Sunset.

Only, they couldn’t remember what it was called. One of the other members of the group couldn’t remember the name and a bunch of them knew the story as well and were trying to find it in their favorites or comment histories or any other way they could have found it.

Without thinking he replied to the chat: _it’s called Whiskey Sunset_.

At the same time, a user named DeadLockedNLoaded replied to the thread.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: O hey, im translating that. It’s called Whiskey Sunset by Dragon_Drums._ _  
_ _[DragonDrums]: that’s you?_

Hanzo stared in horror at the message. There was a way to delete messages here…or could only admins do that? He scrambled, trying to hit the delete button, right-clicking on the message, nothing.

At the bottom of the screen he could see a set of rolling ellipses and the message _DeadLockedNLoaded is typing…_

[ _DeadLockedNLoaded]: HOLY SHIT THAT’S YOU?_

Things had escalated from there. Opuntina_Opera-slash-DeadLockedNLoaded asked questions. A lot of questions. They didn’t want to translate _words_ but wanted to make sure that the meaning translated as well. After a lot of correspondence back and forth, they eventually asked if they could DM Hanzo.

He swallowed and then accepted.

They’d been chatting every day since. Locked, as Hanzo had begun to call them, asked to translate all of his works. The languages they were fluent in, they would share with Hanzo “officially”; those that they were learning, they shared anyway but Hanzo didn’t post at their request. They claimed that it was good practice.

Not that it made much of a difference to Hanzo. As much as he had poured his heart into writing the stories, Locked poured their heart into translating – even the languages they were less familiar with – and it sent a thrill through Hanzo every time he was sent a translated document.

[ _DeadLockedNLoaded]: so. tell me about this mer au_

Hanzo blinked, returning to the present. He smiled.

* * *

Hanzo ended up waking up late so he couldn’t go to the coffee shop before class and fell asleep during one of them.

He considered getting a cheap cup from the campus coffee shop because he wasn’t sure if Tombstone ever worked the afternoon shift. In the end the burned sludge from the campus shop wasn’t worth it and he needed to get work done so he made his way to Tombstone’s coffee shop.

(At this point he didn’t even know the name of the place – he called it Tombstone’s shop in his mind and even Satya began calling it that though her lips were always twisted up in a teasing smirk when she did.)

Tombstone was mid-yawn when Hanzo opened the doors and stopped suddenly with a guilty look. Recognizing Hanzo, he grinned. “Hey!”

“Hey,” Hanzo said shyly.

They grinned stupidly at each other for a few seconds. “Oh!” Tombstone said. “Um…what can I getcha today?”

Hanzo tugged at a loose bang. He should get a haircut…but what if Tombstone didn’t like it? “How about you surprise me?” he suggested.

With an adorably dumb look on his face, Tombstone blinked at him. “Surprise you?”

“I need something that will last me well into the night,” Hanzo said. “The largest you have that won’t send me into cardiac arrest.”

Tombstone smirked, tilting his head and Hanzo wondered if that counted as flirting. Was he flirting with Hanzo? Was Hanzo flirting with Tombstone? Ugh. He really needed to figure it out. Get his shit together.

God, he was hopeless. If you looked up the phrase ‘useless gay’ in the dictionary his picture would be next to it.

“Sorry,” he said, flushing when he realized that Tombstone had said something. “Zoned out there a bit. I didn’t get to sleep until late last night.”

Tombstone chuckled but it didn’t sound mocking. “I hear ya, pumpkin,” he said and then immediately looked down. “Ah, sorry,” he stammered. “Ah…” he coughed and rubbed the back of his neck as he flushed bright red. “I _said_ , guess I can’t cheat and give you espresso. Too much would probably kill you.”

Inwardly pleased ( _He called him pumpkin!_ He couldn’t wait to tell Locked.) Hanzo smiled. “How about some form of latte?”

“Iced or hot?” Tombstone asked automatically, typing something complicated into the register.

“I’m going to the library,” Hanzo said. “Which is…”

“Colder than a witch’s tit in a brass bra?” Tombstone suggested with a roguish grin.

A man coming out of the back carrying a tray of cookies looked up, scandalized. “ _Mijo!_ ”

Tombstone full-body flinched and Hanzo hid his smile behind his hand. He said something to the man in Spanish, sounding contrite. The man didn’t look convinced and scowled at Tombstone but said nothing else, pointedly looking at Hanzo.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Tombstone tried to smile at Hanzo. It looked adorable and endearing and Hanzo felt his heart skip a beat. “Sorry,” he said. “Now…something hot then? For the library?”

Suddenly loathe to leave, Hanzo looked around and found an empty seat. “How late are you open?” he asked.

“Monday thru Fridays 7am to 11pm,” Tombstone said automatically. “Weekends 7am to midnight. During finals damn near 24 hours.”

The man with the tray of cookies looked up disapprovingly and Hanzo hid another smile behind his hand. “Maybe I’ll study here, then. It seems quiet enough.”

Tombstone smiled. “Iced, then?”

“Yes, please,” Hanzo said shyly. He paid and Tombstone scribbled something on the cup, promising to bring it to Hanzo when it was ready.

As soon as he was at his chair, he pulled up the messaging app on his phone.

_[DragonDrums]: psst!_  
_[DragonDrums]: how do you know if someone is flirting with you?_ __  
_[DragonDrums]: I need to know_  
[DragonDrums]: for a friend

For good measure he texted the same thing to Satya who responded immediately: _you’re hopeless_.

Locked had responded while he rolled his eyes and ignored her:

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: if you ever find out please tell em_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: *me_ __  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: think a customer was flirting with me_  
[DeadLockedNLoaded]: cant tell

He looked up and found Tombstone tucking something in one of the pockets of his apron. From this corner he could see a bit behind the counter and was able to watch Tombstone bustle around to a bunch of complicated-looking machines.

From the front Tombstone was unfairly attractive with light brown eyes and wavy auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail. He had a light dusting of freckles on his tanned skin and a stupid smile that made Hanzo turn to mush.

From _behind_ …well Hanzo tried not to think too deeply on it.

Or on the way that Tombstone’s tight jeans should be illegal. They were stretched tight around his ass and thighs and looked like if he bent _anywhere_ they were burst at the seams.

His musings were put on hold as Tombstone brought his iced latte in a tall plastic cup to his table, the sides already wet with condensation. Hanzo thanked him and Tombstone smiled at him. Their fingers brushed and Tombstone fled behind the counter, giving Hanzo an even better view of his ass and the way the denim was stretched across it.

He imagined that he could see the seams stretching.

Hanzo would bet that they would need to be _peeled_ off of him. He imagined that it would be almost impossible for a quickie in them…Hanzo swallowed and looked down at his coffee. He needed to think of something else – _anything_ else – or he would never be able to meet Tombstone’s eyes ever again.

_Yeah_ , Hanzo thought in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Satya’s. _You’d be too busy looking at his dick_.

No, he decided as he struggled to contain a hysterical laugh. That sounded more like Genji. His phone buzzed and he looked down.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: think I should ask hm out?_

Hanzo smiled. That at least was easy. It was easy to coach others rather than to coach yourself.

_[DragonDrums]: do it_ _  
_ _[DragonDrums]: what’s the wrost that can happen?_

Locked replied immediately:

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: I see him a lot_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: I don’t know if he swings my way_ __  
_[DragonDrums]: if he’s a decent person then he won’t hold it against you_  
[DeadLockedNLoaded]: not everyone’s a decent person tho

Hanzo made a face. _That_ was certainly true.

Realizing that someone was standing over him, Hanzo quickly hid his phone and looked up. But it was only Tombstone, a flush across his freckled cheeks as he held a small plate in his hand. On it was a small chocolate torte or maybe some kind of tiramisu with a decorative chocolate shape shoved in it.

Tombstone swallowed, his flush turning into a blush, and he put it down on the table in front of Hanzo along with a napkin and a wrapped plastic fork. “Sorry,” he said. “Um…on the house.”

This time Hanzo blushed as well. The cake looked very good but his stomach twisted. Would it be ungrateful to tell him that he was lactose intolerant? But it was a small thing so it probably wouldn’t be too bad on him. And he had his pills with him – he was sure that he could discreetly eat one as well.

“It’s an experimental piece,” Tombstone blurted before Hanzo could say anything. “Um…we got a few vegans wandering through. The mousse and whipped cream is made with coconut milk.”

Seeing how Tombstone was wringing his hands, Hanzo couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks,” he said shyly. “It looks delicious. Did you make it?”

Tombstone ducked his head. “I just assembled it. Not much good at baking.”

Swallowing, Hanzo gestured for the seat across from him. “If you have a moment, I’d…um…you’re welcome to share it with me.” All of his smooth words fled him.

He could make two fictional characters flirt but himself? He was just an awkward duckling.

An ugly one, too.

Anything clever he wanted to say disappeared before it could get to his tongue. He was lucky that he wasn’t a stammering mess in front of Tombstone now.

Tombstone scratched the back of his neck, looked at the cash register (which was empty), the rest of the café (which was also empty), and then slid into the seat across from Hanzo. His eagerness was encouraging and endearing and Hanzo smiled even though his heart thundered in his chest.

“Sorry,” Tombstone blurted. “Um…I’m just…I’m not usually like this.”

Hanzo ducked his head. “Do you have another fork?” he asked the plate. Out of his peripheries he can see Tombstone wringing his hands in his apron. His nametag was a little clearer today and he could make out _J---e_. His letters were crooked, rising and falling like the display on a heart monitor and…and there he went again, trying to describe the world to himself like he was writing it into one of his stories.

Tombstone patted the pockets of his apron and cleared his throat. “Um…I’ll go get one for you.” He scrambled off before Hanzo could say anything more and was back with a handful of napkins and another fork. He sat jerkily as if unsure of his welcome. “Do…was there something wrong with that one?”

“I had asked you to share it with me,” Hanzo said, fiddling with the plastic wrapping on his fork. “A little hard to do it with one fork.”

He looked up in time to see the thought flash across Tombstone’s face just as it flashed like lightning through his: _not if we feed each other_. They both blushed and looked away.

Hanzo tugged at the corners of the plastic wrapping, nervousness making his hands clumsy. Tombstone opened his and held it out, half-wrapped in a way that reminded Hanzo of a peeled banana, for Hanzo. “Trade you?” he suggested and Hanzo blushed as he obeyed, handing over his wrapped fork.

Then was their next dilemma as they both stared at the cake and each other. “Ah,” Hanzo said nervously. “You first.”

Tombstone blushed and looked like he was about to argue but ultimately didn’t. It was a good thing because Hanzo had no idea what to say to him. As soon as Tombstone scooped away a bite, Hanzo did the same, pleased to find that it seemed to be a cross between a tiramisu and a chocolate cake with layers of mousse and cake.

Realizing that Tombstone was looking at him expectantly, Hanzo smiled. “It’s good!”

The smile that Tombstone gave him back was brilliant and blinding and Hanzo wondered if this was what it felt like for his heart to skip a beat.

Or perhaps his gayness had simply given him a heart attack and he was dying.

“Hey,” Tombstone blurted out and Hanzo looked up guiltily, his fork halfway to the cake for another bite. “Um…” he fiddled with his fork. “Do you…are you free? This week sometime?”

Hanzo wondered what his face looked like. To him it felt like it flushed with heat or perhaps the blood had receded like the tide, not in horror but in terror of the idea of dating someone as…as…of dating someone that seemed as wonderful as Tombstone.

For a moment he watched Tombstone as the silence stretched awkwardly between them. Tombstone flushed and looked down, toying with his fork, with the ridiculous pile of crumpled napkins he had grabbed, with his apron.

“Oh,” he had croaked awkwardly. “I’m…sorry. Um…I’ll just…”

“Wait!” Hanzo’s hips slammed against the table as he stood rapidly, knocking his coffee into the cake. It spilled all over the table and soaked into the cake, washing away some of the mousse and whipped cream. Some of it dripped off the table and fell on Hanzo’s legs and he yelped at the shock of cold. He froze rather than try to move again, bent over the table with his hands bracing himself at the edges.

They both watched in silent shock as a clump of ice with a mousse-covered raspberry at the helm slowly slid off the table and fell to the ground with a wet _splat_.

“Fuck,” Hanzo breathed.

Tombstone held both hands to his mouth as Hanzo blushed bright red. Then he burst into laughter, nudging into the table and sending more ferries of ice like miniature glaciers careening off the table. It was infectious and Hanzo was lost for a moment in the way Tombstone’s eyes crinkled, at the dimples in his cheeks, at the great guffaws of laughter and…there he went again but could you blame him?

He laughed with Tombstone as much at himself as the situation. Tombstone mumbled something around his laughter, gestured vaguely toward the counter, and stumbled off, stepping over the puddle forming beneath their table. Grabbing the pile of napkins on the table Hanzo began to build a dam to keep more of their ruined dessert and coffee from escaping.

Tombstone returned with a rag and a trash pail, his face red though he seemed to have stopped laughing. Together they scooped the wet napkins and the rest of the spilled drink into the trash along with the ruined cake.

“Sorry,” Hanzo mumbled, his face now bright red in mortification.

This close he could smell Tombstone’s…aftershave? Perhaps cologne? Soap? Deodorant? He couldn’t even begin to tell and he hated himself for falling back on bad habits. Thinking of life through the lens of writing a story, much like the lens of a camera, was no way to live.

_But it was easier_ , he thought to himself as Tombstone mumbled something again. He left and returned with a mop and a handful of damp paper towels for Hanzo’s leg. It made him seem like a bystander or a scientist recording his finds. Sometimes it was easier to make it through the day by thinking of himself as an observer rather than the main character of the comedy of his life.

He wondered what his favorite characters would do, what they would do in his place. One of them would become angry, full of self-hatred at their ruined moment. He wasn’t sure what the other would do. Neither of them were necessarily healthy role models though.

Done, Tombstone dunked the mop back in its bucket and leaned against it, looking at Hanzo. “I…um…I suppose meeting up with you later isn’t…?” Tombstone looked away, a cute blush on his cheeks.

Hanzo scrambled through his pockets and then picked up his phone for lack of anything better to do. He brought up a new contact page and handed it to Tombstone. “Can I get your number?” he asked, a blush bright red on his cheeks. “Then we can…um…” with his free hand he gestured vaguely.

So much for eloquence.

Ugh.

Tombstone stared at him. “I…” he looked down at the phone and took it eagerly. “I didn’t think…” he swallowed and typed something in and Hanzo tried not to stare.

“Sorry,” Hanzo said for lack of anything better to say. “If I gave you the wrong idea. I just…” Tombstone’s eyes flashed up to his. “I’d love to.” He bit his lip. “I have…class on Thursday nights but otherwise I’m free.”

The barista’s eyes lit up as he handed Hanzo back his phone. Looking down, he smiled when he read it. Tombstone’s name was actually _Jesse McCree_ and he had added an emoji of a coffee cup next to his name. He typed a text with his name and a dragon emoji and sent it to his new contact. “I’ll text you later?” Hanzo asked shyly. “Then we can…”

“Coordinate?” Tombstone – no, _Jesse_ – suggested.

Hanzo smiled. “Yes,” he agreed.

Even though he said he was going to study in the café it was a bit much for him after his blunder so he fled. Tombstone – _Jesse_ – waved to him as he fled. He didn’t seem to mind but the man that Hanzo had seen before – the last time he had been in, carrying trays of cookies from the back – was pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

That didn’t dampen his mood though and it didn’t feel like running (even though he distantly acknowledged that it was) all the way to the library.

* * *

The instructor tapped the _atarigane_ out of tempo and everyone stopped. He went around and adjusted stances, spoke to people about their form, and stopped in front of Hanzo. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

Surprised, Hanzo stared up at him with wide eyes. “Yes?” he asked.

Peering at him for a moment longer, the instructor nodded. “You’re a little stiffer than normal,” he told Hanzo a little louder and they both heard Genji snicker. “And your tempo is all over the place. You need to _hold_ it, not be dragged all over by everyone else.” He wiggled the instrument in his hand. “For now I’m giving you the beat. Try to keep it steady.”

Hanzo nodded, chastised, and spun his sticks nervously. The instructor sketched out a time on the _atarigane_. He nodded at Hanzo to begin the opening solo.

The next run-through was much cleaner and the instructor called for them all to take a break. Tucking his sticks in one hand, Hanzo went to his bags, trying not to frown when Genji wandered over as well. He was saved when one of his other classmates, a cheerful young woman named Hana, jumped between them and began grilling him with questions.

“You looked like you needed the save,” she whispered when Genji became impatient and walked away. “I also wanted to ask about your sticks because they’re _glorious_ .” She spun the ones she had borrowed from him in her hands, nearly smacking Hanzo. “They make me feel _powerful!_ ”

Hanzo smiled and Hana’s playful smirk turned sly. “But I know the look in your eyes, Hanny,” she teased. “You’re in loooove.”

He swatted at her with his sticks – gently because even his smaller ones for a smaller drums were _heavy_ – as the instructor called them to do another run-through of the song.

She was right, though.

To an extent.

Hanzo hoped that it wasn’t love – it was far too early for that – but he thought that he was certainly very… _fond_ of Jesse. Locked had congratulated him and teased him almost every time there was a long pause between their talks. _Sorry, were you fucking?_

As if Locked weren’t as bad! He said that he had spoken to the customer he thought was flirting and that they had a tentative date planned for Friday night. If Hanzo wasn’t talking about Tombstone (it just didn’t feel right to give away Jesse’s name, even to Locked) then Jesse was talking about his flirty customer.

He ducked out as soon as they had bowed out of class, snatching up his things and heading to his car. It was late and Jesse said that he had an early shift at the café but if he was lucky then maybe he’d get a few minutes of texting in before Jesse had to go to sleep.

There were a few messages from Locked as well, describing his nervousness for his own date and until he saw that Hanzo had been fine. Now he worried. Were the clothes he picked out suitable? Were they not good enough?

Behind him he could hear a barrage of noise as the door to the dojo opened. “Hanzo and his girlfriend sitting in a tree,” Hana chanted, her hands cupped around her mouth.

Genji snorted. “Are you abandoning me, brother?” he asked dryly. “Or did you just _happened_ to forget that we drove together?”

“Oops,” Hanzo said dryly, not at all looking forward to the car ride. “It seems to have slipped my mind.”

He climbed in the car and tucked his phone where Genji couldn’t reach it. “So,” Genji said as he closed the door, drawing out the _o_ obnoxiously. “What’s gotten The Metronome so off his game today?”

Hanzo didn’t answer, shifting into gear.

“Does it have something to do with a certain barista?” Genji wheedled. “And the fact that today all he did was stare off into space with a dreamy smile?”

Glancing over at Genji, Hanzo asked, “Did he?”

Genji snorted, flapping a hand like he was swatting at a fly. “Nothing of the sort, _Jesse_ is a professional.”

So reminded that Genji had apparently known Jesse all along, Hanzo scowled and returned his attention to the road.

“But it concerns me that you’re so distracted that you’re knocked off your game,” Genji added.

“What is this, high school?” Hanzo snapped, not liking his brother’s tone. “Are you concerned that the _cheer team_ will be off our game and not make it to states?”

Genji snorted. “I hate it when you get like this,” he grumbled. “It’s no use talking to you. I’m _just saying_ that he’s already been distracting you and you can’t even seem to notice.”

“What happened to _I just want you to be happy?_ ” Hanzo asked.

“That went out the window when I had to play the same song three times because you couldn’t keep the tempo steady,” Genji replied, looking out the window with the air of a spoiled heiress.

Hanzo didn’t say anything, focusing on not gritting his teeth, not tensing up his arms, and not crashing the car as rage bubbled beneath his skin. The brothers didn’t speak, not even when Hanzo dropped Genji off at his house.

Before he started driving again, Hanzo checked his messages and found a few from Jesse and a few from Locked.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: how was class?_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: is the performance coming along?_  
_[DragonDrums]: miserably_ __  
_[DragonDrums]: my brother yelled at me_  
[DragonDrums]: says im too distracted

Hanzo shifted the car into gear and began driving. The café was still open and Hanzo debated stopping by but he didn’t need the coffee this late and Jesse wouldn’t be there anyway. Hanzo had little interest in speaking to the other man there who seemed so exasperated by the two of them.

By the time Hanzo got home, he found a few more messages from Locked.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: he’s a little shit_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: nothing wrong with a bit of healthy distraction_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: no offense but you need to get out more_ __  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: Tombstone might be good for you_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: and you’re supposed to be doing that for fun right?_

Hanzo smiled.

_[DragonDrums]: yes, but “for fun” ended when I joined the performance group_

Locked sent back an emoji of a middle finger. It was followed by three more, each in their own separate messages.

Hanzo took the hint and changed the subject.

_[DragonDrums]: so_  
_[DragonDrums]: about your date_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: dude_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: duuude_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: im so nervous_  
_[DragonDrums]: I am too_ __  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: D:_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: we can be nervous together_

Hanzo laughed and collected his gear from his car. He checked his messages from Jesse, feeling a little bad that he had abandoned him for Locked but to be fair it was getting pretty late.

That’s what he told himself, anyway.

_Sorry_ , he texted Jesse. _Just got back from class._

_It’s okay,_ Jesse texted back almost immediately. _For some reason I’m still awake_.

Hanzo debated telling Jesse about class or about what Genji said but it wouldn’t be fair to him so he didn’t. (That it wasn’t fair to _Hanzo_ was conveniently forgotten.)

_How was class?_ Jesse asked.

_Okay_ , Hanzo replied vaguely as he closed the door behind him. _We’re getting ready for a performance next week._

Jesse didn’t respond for a while and Hanzo suspected that he had gone to sleep. He opened his chat with Locked.

_[DragonDrums]: if I send you pictures, can you help me choose something for the date?_ _  
_ _[DeadLockedNLoaded]: im much better at dressing others than myself_

Hanzo snorted.

_[DragonDrums]: im nto sure a dildo-cron would be appropriate attire for a date_  
_[DragonDrums]: *not_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: that is what you chose to edit?_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: not “dildo-cron”?_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: now im just imagining transformers_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: Dildocron, leader of the Sexbots_ __  
_[DragonDrums]: eew_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: lol_

Hanzo found himself yawning.

_[DragonDrums]: I know you have work early tomorrow._  
_[DragonDrums]: wanna go over date clothes now o rlater?_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: you can send me pictures now and I’ll review tomorrow_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: imma go to sleep…or try_ __  
_[DragonDrums]: cool_  
[DragonDrums]: just send me yours too and after lab I’ll review

Locked sent a thumbs-up and then the dot next to their icon went grey.

Jii-san and Staples met him at the door and remembering the picture he had taken the other day, Hanzo fished out his phone again.

_[DragonDrums]: hey real fast_

He paused and sure enough the dot next to Locked’s icon turned green.

_[DragonDrums]: wanna see my balls?_ _  
_ _[DragonDrums]: [IMG_20670715_162920435.jpg]_

He watched gleefully as Locked started and stopped typing five different times.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: are those cats?_ _  
_ _[DeadLockedNLoaded]: cus if not you need to see a doctor_

Hanzo laughed out loud and the cats scattered. He sent a few pictures of the cats he had on his phone.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: thanks I’ll have nightmares now_ _  
_ _[DragonDrums]: goodnight ;)_

Locked sent back a middle finger and then a kissy face. Their icon turned grey again.

Feeling much better and much more awake, Hanzo took a shower to rinse off the sweat and sat down at the computer to write.

* * *

It turned out that Locked indeed had questionable fashion taste.

The options provided to Hanzo were all varying tartans designs. One was paisley.

Hanzo took a deep breath.

_[DragonDrums]: why_  
_[DragonDrums]: WHY_ __  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: he needs to know what he’s getting into_  
[DeadLockedNLoaded]: this is me

Hanzo couldn’t even tell if they were serious anymore.

He took another deep breath. That was fair, he supposed.

_[DragonDrums]: go with the light blue one_  
_[DragonDrums]: it’s muted enough that it wouldn’t be terrifying but it’s still bold_ __  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: it sound slike I’m on Project runway_  
[DragonDrums]: make it work

Hanzo laughed to himself as he looked through his own closet. He had forgotten to do so the night before but he woke up to find that lab had cancelled and he had a free day.

After going to the gym and showering, he began messaging Locked. He guessed they were on break because they were more or less responding immediately with pictures of their closet.

Locked sent a picture of the shirt that Hanzo had picked out next to a pair of jeans.

_[DragonDrums]: too light_   
_[DragonDrums]: aren’t you supposed to be at work?_ _  
_ _[DeadLockedNLoaded]: papi told me my head was too much in the clouds to be of any use_

Hanzo snorted, conveniently forgetting that he would have been the same if the professor hadn’t cancelled lab. He wondered who “papi” was. He knee knew that Locked was fluent in Spanish so it may have been their father but it also could have been a friend they knew named papi or their manager.

Then he remembered that Locked once said that they helped out at their parent’s store and figured that it was indeed their father. It seemed like something a father would say anyway.

(Hanzo wouldn’t know. He took great pains to avoid working with his.)

Locked sent another picture before Hanzo could think too deeply about it.

_[DragonDrums]: much better!_ _  
_ _[DeadLockedNLoaded]: :D_

He sent a picture of large and gaudy belt buckles. _They had an entire drawer of them_.

Hanzo took a deep breath.

_[DragonDrums]: ideally none of them but I know I can’t convince you otherwise_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: D:_ __  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: I mean you CAN but I hope you don’t_  
[DeadLockedNLoaded]: ;)

Shaking his head, Hanzo inspected the picture closely.

_[DragonDrums]: go with the gold_  
_[DragonDrums]: it’ll go with the yellow in the shirt_ __  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: there’s yellow in the shirt?_  
[DeadLockedNLoaded]: (im colorblind)

Hanzo stared at the phone. As with a lot he couldn’t tell whether Locked was joking or not so he ignored it.

_[DragonDrums]: yes, just a little bit_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: ok_ __  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: is it too bad?_  
[DragonDrums]: no

He was pretty sure that color-blindness didn’t quite work like that but he wasn’t about to call Locked out on it. It was just the right kind of silliness that Hanzo needed.

Thinking about how nervous Locked seemed to be, Hanzo dug around in his closet for his most ridiculous clothes.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: that’s good_ _  
_ _[DeadLockedNLoaded]: I like this buckle_

Hanzo carefully laid out his clothes and took a picture, squinting at the screen to make sure that it was just right. Satisfied, he sent it to Locked.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: …._  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: ……._  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: Drums…_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: Drums I’m begging you…_ __  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: for my gay little heart_  
[DeadLockedNLoaded]: PLEASE wear that

Jii-san, who had come to investigate, jumped a foot straight in the air when Hanzo laughed. He landed on Staples and the two of them zoomed out; Hanzo could hear them racing over the other rooms in his apartment.

_[DragonDrums]: a crop top and jeans_

It was a very nice crop top though and showed off his abs. The cut would also reveal the line of hair that pointed into his pants. It was quite a bit more suggestive than Hanzo would typically like, especially on a first date, and wondered what Jesse would do if he saw him wearing it. The jeans were dark and were just this side of too tight, reminding Hanzo of the tight jeans that Jesse seemed fond of wearing.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: the jeans are tight enough to protect your virtue ;)_ _  
_ _[DragonDrums]: you’re missing the best part_

He flipped the jeans over and took a picture of the gold dragon decal that crossed his ass and slid down the back of his leg.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: is that a dragon or are you just happy to see me?_  
_[DragonDrums]: don’t rouse the dragon_ __  
_[DragonDrums]: or do ;)_  
[DeadLockedNLoaded]: if you have a dragon there, you should see a doctor

Hanzo howled with laughter.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: PLEASE wear that_ _  
_ _[DeadLockedNLoaded]: I would PAY MONEY to see you wear that_

Despite himself Hanzo smiled.

_[DragonDrums]: I’ll take a picture before I leave_

Hanzo dug around and found a flannel shirt he never wore. The tags were still on it but the dark blue shouldn’t look _too_ bad against the black crop top or his jeans… _or_ his tattoo.

Now that he thought about it, the shirt may have been Genji’s. It certainly didn’t fit like one of his.

He rolled up the sleeves to his elbows and left the front open to show the tight-fitting crop top. Unlike Locked he didn’t have a collection of ridiculous belt buckles so he settled on a plain black belt that matched his plain black shoes.

Taking a picture in front of the mirror was tricky but he managed and sent it to Locked.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: can’t talk_ _  
_ _[DeadLockedNLoaded]: blood not in brain_

Hanzo chuckled.

_[DragonDrums]: eyeliner or no?_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: FUCK_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: are you TRYING to kill me?_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: my gay little heart is going pitter patter_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: do you normally wear eyeliner?_  
_[DragonDrums]: sometimes_  
_[DragonDrums]: usually for performances but sometimes just around campus_ __  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: I say go for it_  
[DeadLockedNLoaded]: go bold

Smiling, Hanzo sent back a thumbs-up. As he was undressing for a shower to wash away the pre-date jitters, Hanzo received another picture from Locked.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: spurs or no?_

Hanzo dropped his phone, startling Staples into running away again.

Locked wore cowboy boots that were mercifully hidden (mostly) by the legs of his jeans. One boot had a spur; the other was bare.

_[DragonDrums]: I don’t know where you are but I assume it’s not in the Wild West_   
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: lol_ _  
_ _[DeadLockedNLoaded]: I’ll take that as a ‘no’_

Hanzo waited, halfway in the shower as Locked sent another picture.

They were dressed smartly otherwise, their flannel tucked into their jeans though it unfortunately put the stupid belt buckle on display.

BAMF.

He certainly hadn’t noticed that but somehow it wasn’t the worst. It was at least rectangular and wasn’t so completely out of place like some of the brightly-colored ones he had seen in Locked’s picture.

_[DragonDrums]: you look absolutely ridiculous_  
_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: D:_ __  
_[DragonDrums]: but I think it suits you_  
[DeadLockedNLoaded]: :D

Hanzo smiled and climbed in the shower.

When he climbed out, he had a new message from Locked.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: leaving now! Wish me luck!_

They sent along another picture. Locked was doing a finger-gun through the mirror, looking as cocky as a cowboy. Hanzo could see the hint of a beard and a roguish smirk.

Seeing the time, Hanzo swore.

_[DragonDrums]: luck!_

Throwing the phone down, he hurried to get ready.

* * *

His phone buzzed as he walked the last block to the restaurant.

_Sorry, running late,_ he texted Jesse.

He opened his message from Locked.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: I think he stood me up :(_  
_[DragonDrums]: maybe he’s just late_ __  
_[DragonDrums]: I am too D:_  
[DeadLockedNLoaded]: D:

Hanzo tucked his phone away but immediately pulled it back out when it buzzed. There was a message from Jesse: _whew. I was scared for a moment_.

Smiling, Hanzo typed back, _sorry. I got distracted._ He debated admitting that he had been writing or talking to (gossiping with) an online friend, but he didn’t have the confidence for it and resolved to say that he was in the library or something if asked.

Locked had also sent a message.

_[DeadLockedNLoaded]: yeah he was just running late_

Hanzo sent a thumbs-up. And tucked his phone away.

He pulled it back out to turn down the volume and nearly ran into a stop sign.

As he approached the restaurant, he slowed down. His hands were sweaty.

What if he had made the wrong choice? What if he was too much?

Nervously he tugged the front of his flannel closed, fumbling with the buttons. There was no saving it now – he’d have to tuck it in and doing so meant taking off his belt and it didn’t even fit across his chest…

Hanzo forced himself to let go and smoothed down the front of his flannel with shaky hands.

A date. Somehow Locked had made it so that the jitters had gone away but without their silly, snarky messages it was back in force.

But he was just being silly, right? This was Tombstone – this was Jesse!

He stopped at the door and carefully pushed it open.

It was one of those kind of sports bar-steakhouse places. There was even a small bar and billiard table near the front, just beyond the padded benches that lined the entryway. The bartender was dressed smartly in a white shirt and a black vest and smiled at him in greeting as she cleaned the pilsner glass in her hands. The image of an old-time saloon bartender was ruined by her bright violet hair and undercut.

Locked would look right at home here. Hanzo could almost imagine seeing him sitting on the couch in the waiting area, his legs kicked wide and his elbows braced on his knees as he toyed with his phone.

Only the person in front of him that reminded him of Locked had long auburn hair that fell in front of his face and plain brown shoes rather than cowboy boots. The shirt and jeans were eerily similar though.

Hanzo walked past to the hostess stand. “I think we have a reservation for two,” he said. “I’m a little late.”

“Yes,” the hostess said, teasing and scolding as she gestured over to the waiting area. “Your poor date was waiting for a while.”

Turning Hanzo had a distinct feeling of déjà vu as the man stood up, revealing himself to be Jesse.

His BAMF belt buckle was quite distinct and from the look of surprised recognition on his face…well, so was the gold dragon on Hanzo’s ass.

Locked – Tombstone, _Jesse_ – smiled. He held out a hand to Hanzo who took it in a daze. It was kissed with all the gallantry that Hanzo would expect of someone dressed so ridiculously.

“Where are your boots, cowboy?” he blurted.

Jesse’s eyes flicked up toward him. He blushed. “I lost the nerve,” he admitted. Then his hand gently tugged Hanzo’s to the side and he kissed the whiskered, snarling face of the dragon on his arm. “But I would love to rouse the dragon tonight. I don’t need cowboy boots to show you how well I ride.”

From behind him, Hanzo could hear the hostess choke.

“I need to see a doctor,” Hanzo shot back. “I have a dragon on my ass that is rousing and I’m pretty sure that isn’t normal.”

Locked’s laugh was just as beautiful as Hanzo had hoped and Jesse looked simply radiant as he threw his head back.

Distantly he could hear a crash as the bartender dropped the glass she was cleaning. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wow DC, projecting much?
> 
> A few of Locked's comments are based on real ones I'd received. Those that left them can probably recognize them. Hanzo plays taiko because I wanted him to. The song and issue Hanzo is having is something that I am currently struggling with because I'm writing instead of practicing. X'D
> 
> Come and yell at me on tumblr at [Classywastelandbread](https://classywastelandbread.tumblr.com/) or visit for the gratuitous amounts of cats. 
> 
> ~DC


End file.
